Mixed Pregnancy

The red emergency lights painted everything in blood. Smoke poured through the doorway behind Michael, thick and black.

"You ruined everything." Michael's voice was quiet, controlled. The gun stayed level, pointing at Nickey's chest. "I gave you a home. A job. Family."

"You murdered my family." Nickey stepped in front of Trina, shielding her. "My parents. My brother. You burned them alive."

"Your brother was weak. He threatened to expose me. What choice did I have?"

Trina grabbed Nickey's arm. "Michael, please. We can talk about this."

"Talk?" Michael laughed, sharp and bitter. "You're carrying his child. There's nothing to talk about."

Shouts echoed from down the hall. Officers responding to the explosion. Michael glanced back, then returned his attention to them.

"We're leaving. All three of us. Through the back exit. You try anything, I shoot her first." He gestured with the gun. "Move."

"Don't do this," Nickey said. "It's over. They have the files. Everything on that USB drive."

"That drive is a copy. I have the originals. Without them, those files mean nothing in court." Michael smiled. "I always have a backup plan."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Ask your girlfriend. She knows how I work."

Trina's silence answered for her.

Michael moved closer, gun steady. "Now walk. Or I start shooting and take my chances."

The smoke was getting thicker. The fire alarm screamed. Water started spraying from the ceiling sprinklers.

Nickey's mind raced. If they went with Michael, they were dead. If they stayed, the building might collapse. Either way, time was running out.

"Okay." Nickey raised his hands. "We'll go. Just don't hurt her."

"Smart." Michael backed toward the door. "Trina first. Then you."

Trina looked at Nickey. Her eyes said everything. She was terrified. She didn't want to move.

"It's okay," Nickey told her. "Just do what he says."

She walked slowly toward Michael. The sprinklers soaked her hair, her clothes. She was shaking.

Michael grabbed her arm when she got close. "Good girl. Now you, cousin."

Nickey took one step. Then another.

The door beside them exploded inward. Detective Raines and three officers burst through, guns drawn.

"Drop it!" Raines shouted. "Now!"

Michael spun, dragging Trina in front of him as a shield. His gun pressed against her temple.

"Back off or she dies!"

The officers froze. Guns trained on Michael, but no clear shot.

"Let her go," Raines said. "You can still walk away from this."

"Walk away?" Michael's laugh was wild now, unhinged. "To what? Prison? I'd rather burn."

The smoke was choking. The ceiling groaned. Somewhere deeper in the building, another explosion boomed.

"Michael." Trina's voice was small, broken. "Please. Think about what you're doing."

"I am thinking. This is your fault. Both of you. You destroyed everything."

"You destroyed it yourself," Nickey said. "The moment you decided murder was easier than honesty."

Michael's face twisted. "You know nothing about what I had to do. The debts, the threats, the people who would have killed us all if I didn't pay."

"So you killed innocent people instead?"

"They weren't innocent! Your father knew. He was going to turn me in. I had no choice."

"There's always a choice."

"Not for people like me." Michael's grip on Trina tightened. She whimpered. "Some of us don't get to be heroes. We survive however we can."

The ceiling cracked. Debris rained down. The officers backed up, but Raines held his ground.

"Last chance," Raines said. "Let her go."

Michael looked at Nickey. Something passed between them. A lifetime of lies, of family dinners and fake smiles, of the cousin who had taken everything.

"You want her?" Michael shoved Trina forward. She stumbled into Nickey's arms. "Take her. Take it all."

For one heartbeat, everyone froze. Then Michael raised the gun.

Nickey saw it happening in slow motion. The barrel turning. Not toward them. Toward Michael's own head.

"No!" Trina screamed.

Raines lunged forward.

The gun fired.

But Michael jerked at the last second. The bullet hit the wall. Officers tackled him, driving him to the wet floor. The gun skittered away.

"I've got him!" one officer shouted. Handcuffs clicked. Michael didn't fight. He just lay there, face down in the water, sobbing.

"Get them out!" Raines grabbed Nickey and Trina. "Building's coming down!"

They ran. Through smoke and water and falling ceiling tiles. Behind them, Michael screamed something, but the words were lost in the chaos.

They burst out of the station into cold morning air. Fire trucks surrounded the building. Paramedics rushed forward.

Nickey collapsed onto the sidewalk, lungs burning. Trina crouched beside him, coughing. Alive. Both of them alive.

"Is he?" Nickey couldn't finish the question.

"They got him." Raines stood over them, soot-covered and breathing hard. "He's alive. In custody."

"The evidence?"

Raines held up the USB drive, somehow still intact. "Safe."

Nickey closed his eyes. It was over. After everything, it was finally over.

But then Trina gasped. Her hand went to her stomach. When she pulled it away, blood stained her palm.

"Something's wrong," she whispered. "The baby."

Paramedics swarmed them. They loaded Trina onto a stretcher. Nickey tried to follow, but Raines held him back.

"Let them work."

"She's pregnant. She could lose the baby."

"I know. But you'll only be in the way."

They wheeled Trina toward an ambulance. She reached out for Nickey. He grabbed her hand, walking alongside the stretcher.

"Stay with me," she said.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

They lifted her into the ambulance. Nickey climbed in after her. The doors slammed shut.

As they pulled away, sirens wailing, Nickey looked back at the police station. Half the building had collapsed. Officers dragged Michael out in handcuffs, his face blank, defeated.

Their eyes met through the ambulance window. Michael mouthed something. It might have been sorry. It might have been curse you. Nickey would never know.

Then they turned a corner and Michael disappeared from view.

"Sir?" The paramedic working on Trina looked grim. "We need to get her to surgery immediately. She's hemorrhaging."

"Will she be okay?"

"I don't know. The fall, the stress, it might have caused a rupture. We'll do everything we can."

Trina's eyes fluttered. "Nickey?"

He took her hand. "Right here."

"If I don't make it..."

"Don't talk like that."

"Listen to me." Her grip was weak. "The baby. No matter what happens to me, save the baby."

"You're both going to be fine."

"Promise me."

He looked at her pale face, the blood soaking through the bandages, and his throat closed up.

"I promise."

She smiled faintly. Then her eyes closed.

"She's crashing!" The paramedic grabbed equipment. "Driver, faster!"

The ambulance lurched forward. Nickey was pushed back against the wall as they worked on her. Needles, tubes, machines beeping frantically.

"Come on," the paramedic muttered. "Stay with us."

The hospital appeared ahead. They screeched into the emergency bay. Doctors rushed out.

"Twenty eight year old female, pregnant, approximately eight weeks. Blunt force trauma to abdomen. Hemorrhaging. BP dropping."

They pulled the stretcher out. Nickey jumped down after them.

"Sir, you can't go back there."

"She's my..."

What was she? His lover? His cousin's wife? The mother of his child?

"I need to be with her."

A nurse put a hand on his arm. "We'll take good care of her. There's a waiting room down the hall. Someone will update you as soon as we know anything."

They disappeared through double doors. Nickey stood alone in the hallway, covered in soot and blood that wasn't his, listening to the doors swing shut.

Detective Raines appeared beside him. "Any word?"

"Not yet."

They sat in the waiting room. Raines made phone calls. Nickey stared at the wall clock, watching minutes crawl past.

One hour. Two. Three.

Finally, a doctor emerged. Young, tired, still wearing surgical scrubs.

"Family of Trina Clarke?"

Nickey stood. "I'm..." He hesitated. "I'm the father. Of the baby."

The doctor's expression was carefully neutral. "I see. Can I speak with you privately?"

They moved to a quiet corner. Raines stayed behind, giving them space.

"Your... the baby's mother is stable. She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stop the hemorrhaging."

Relief flooded through Nickey. "And the baby?"

The doctor's face changed. "I'm very sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy. The trauma was too severe."

The words hit like a physical blow. "No."

"We did everything we could. But the damage..."

"Can I see her?"

"She's in recovery. Still sedated. But yes, you can sit with her."

Nickey followed the doctor through white corridors that smelled like antiseptic. Into a room where Trina lay pale and still, connected to monitors and IVs.

He sat beside the bed and took her hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I couldn't keep my promise."

Her fingers twitched slightly, but she didn't wake.

Outside, dawn was breaking. The nightmare was over. Michael was in custody. The evidence was safe. Justice, finally, would be served.

But the cost. The terrible cost.

Nickey laid his head on the bed rail and let the tears come.

He didn't hear the door open behind him. Didn't hear the footsteps.

"Mr. Matthews?"

He looked up. A different doctor stood there. Older, with wire-rimmed glasses and a file in his hands.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Chen. I was overseeing Ms. Clarke's case." He glanced at the file. "There's something you should know. About the pregnancy."

"What about it?"

Dr. Chen sat down. "The blood work we ran. There's a complication."

"What kind of complication?"

"The pregnancy wasn't as far along as Ms. Clarke believed. Based on hormone levels and tissue analysis, conception occurred approximately four weeks ago. Not eight."

Nickey's stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"

"It means..." Dr. Chen looked uncomfortable. "The timing. When did you and Ms. Clarke..."

"Three weeks ago. In the garden house."

"Then I'm afraid the child couldn't have been yours."

The room spun. "That's impossible. She said..."

"I'm sorry. The science is clear. This pregnancy predated your involvement with her."

Nickey stared at Trina's sleeping face. She had lied. About the baby being his. Had she known? Or had she been mistaken?

"Whose child was it?"

"Based on the timeline, it would have to be her husband's."

Michael's child. She had been carrying Michael's child all along.

And she had used it to manipulate him. To get him to help her betray Michael. To make him believe they had created something together.

Everything was a lie. Everything.

Dr. Chen stood. "I'll leave you alone. If you need anything, press the call button."

He left. Nickey sat in the silence, staring at the woman he thought he knew.

Trina's eyes opened slowly. She looked around, confused, then saw him.

"Nickey." Her voice was hoarse. "The baby?"

He said nothing.

"Tell me. Please."

"You lost it."

Her face crumpled. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "No. Oh god, no."

"It wasn't mine."

She froze. "What?"

"The doctor told me. The timeline doesn't match. That baby was Michael's."

Color drained from her face. "Nickey, I..."

"Did you know?"

Silence.

"Did you know?" he repeated, voice hard.

"I wasn't sure. I thought... I hoped..."

"You lied to me. Used me."

"No. I care about you. That part was real."

"Was any of it real? Or was I just a weapon you used against your husband?"

Trina reached for his hand. He pulled away.

"Please. Don't do this."

"Do what? Finally see the truth?"

"I love you."

"You don't even know what that word means."

He stood. Walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Panic filled her voice.

"Away from here. Away from you. Away from all of it."

"Nickey, wait!"

He opened the door.

"I'm pregnant again."

He turned. "What?"

"Before they did the surgery. The doctor told me. There's another baby. A second pregnancy. Twins, but fraternal. Different conception dates." Her hand went to her stomach. "One was Michael's. But the other... the other one survived. And it's yours."

Nickey stood frozen in the doorway.

"I'm still pregnant with your child."